


Thrown to the Wolves

by Pixie Unger (Pixel_Runner)



Series: The Practicalities of Werewolves in the Modern Age [4]
Category: Monsters - Fandom, Original Work, elves - Fandom, evil elves - Fandom, teratophilia - Fandom, werewolves - Fandom
Genre: Damned if I even know, F/F, F/M, Multi, People are Assholes, Plot, Text in Bold is Werewolf language, Vintage Cars, Werewolves some times eat people, head injuries, sometimes in a sexy way, werewolves hiding in the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-01-20 21:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18533680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixel_Runner/pseuds/Pixie%20Unger
Summary: A small town pack end up taking care of a newly infected girl.  The mostly get it wrong, but it works out in the end.





	1. Prologue and Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first two chapters. This work is now for sale for both kindle and kobo. Search my name if you want to support me. ( I can't post a link without violating AO3's terms of service - sorry!)

###  PROLOGUE

####  May 9th, 1919

Marv had last met his alpha in Atlanta, 1867. Fighting until both of them were nearly dead, they each ran off to heal and Marv, had just kept running. He spent the intervening time walking the world as a lone wolf. It suited him just fine. But here he was, 52 years later in New York, and suddenly he had picked up the bastard’s  trail. Marv tracked the one who had infected him for five days. Learning his routine. It turned out, the bastard was running a brothel trafficking human women across state lines. His pack was a mess. Simon was only one still there that Marv knew. 

 

Marv considered his options. He wasn’t overly pleased that this guy was still effectively running slaves.  Human women shouldn’t be his problem. If asked, he would lie and say that fifteen women locked in small rooms wasn’t a consideration.  His beef was with his former alpha. It wasn’t exactly a territory challenge, it was just settling a score. Marv didn’t think he could win in a tooth and claw fight, they were too closely matched. But he had picked up a few things during the great war and he knew where to get a sniper rifle.

He left Simon in charge of the Manhattan pack. Marv wasn’t a city boy. But Craig followed him out of town. Skinny little git wouldn’t stay gone.

####  [ April 30th, 1999 ](https://nssdc.gsfc.nasa.gov/planetary/lunar/blue_moon.html)

Sean woke up feeling full and well fucked. He also woke up to the mouth-watering smell of blood. How was this now his life? He yawned and stretched.  When he opened his eyes, he turned to his wife, Lori. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Her neck ripped out. Her entrails spilling onto the floor. Her internal organs missing.    Sean scrambled out of bed and plastered himself to the wall.

 

Then he saw himself  in the mirror. His hands and mouth and dick were all covered in blood.

####  June 12th, 2004

Sarah didn’t really care that a meteorite had struck a house in New Zealand. At thirteen, she didn’t even care that there was only one week of school left. No. What was worrying Sarah was that she was going to spend the summer with her only living grandparent. Her dad’s dad was going to be taking care of her while her parents finalized the divorce and sold the house.

 

She had known things weren’t good between her parents for years now, but she hadn’t been expecting this.

 

Grampa Alton was nice enough, in a completely self absorbed able bodied white male kind of a way. He was a baby boomer. He hadn’t really bothered to come visit after Gramma Vivian died of breast cancer three years ago. Sarah kinda go the impression that he hadn’t contributed much to her dad’s upbringing.

 

And now, he was going to be in charge of a thirteen year old girl.

 

Sarah would rather have spent the summer with one of her friends from school. When she asked if that could be arranged, nether of her parents would look at her.

 

No. Once the house was sold, Dad would be getting a one bedroom apartment in the city to keep his job. Mom would be moving back east where the housing was more affordable. Sarah would be starting High School in a new town.

 

It was the dumbest thing Sarah had ever heard, but her parents said they were rushing the divorce so that she could register for school in the fall, instead of having to move half way through the year. That was bullshit! If they cared about her, they would find a way to stop fighting all the time.

 

This was so unfair.

 

###  Chapter 1

_ 536 AD - Initial Deployment _

_ The Makers successfully repel a recent Frost Giant invasion of Earth with the creation of The Dogs of War. Humans born male are gifted, or perhaps cursed, so that they are able to change their shape near at will into that of beasts suitable for defending from future invasions by non humans. Initial packs are unstable with infighting being a significant cause of morbidity and mortality. The infection was non-transmissible. War Dogs are unable to control the change as they climax and invariably kill and eat any humans they attempt to mate with. The first deployment is self eradicated by 661AD. _

####  August 22nd

Sarah was on her way to Plattsburg to start a Masters in Environmental studies. She was starting to think her GPS had a sense of humour. It had her on the I-86 when she was reasonably sure there was a more direct route.  And now, it was raining. Of course it was! She was driving a 1960’s VW bug with slightly bald tires, why wouldn’t it be raining?

That made her laugh again. Her car was made of spare parts from every year from 1958 through 1964 except 1960. Nonetheless, that was the year on her registration. They went with the average.

She was pulling up behind a biker, so she slowed down and was careful with her following distance. The last thing she needed was to smoke someone if he laid the bike down in the rain. 

She read his jacket. “Hel’s Hounds.” Hmmm… either surprisingly well-read, or surprisingly bad spelling. After a moment she sagged. Or white supremacist. God, she hated people sometimes.

Molly whimpered and nudged her elbow. Sarah reached over and scratched her ears. “I hear you girl. First gas station I see, we’ll get out and stretch our legs, OK?” Her dog gave a disgusted sigh. Sarah laughed.

Which is why she didn’t see the biker swerve to avoid the board laying in the road. When she hit it, a random nail shredded her tire. Sarah swore and pulled over. Then she sat there and thumped the steering wheel and cussed until she felt, if not better, but prepared to go out into the rain to change her tire.

She let Molly out to pee, resigning herself to riding with wet dog until she found a town with a motel. Once her dog was back in the car, Sarah dug the spare out of the front of her car and jacked up the front passenger side. Her hands were cold and wet and her lug nuts were stuck. She took a deep breath and tried to avoid swearing. Or crying. She got back into the car to check her cell signal.

“Hey, Siri - where is the nearest garage?” She gritted her teeth that the suggestion was for the clothing company. Eventually, she found one in Bellmont, but it was after hours and it looked like they specialized in bikes not cars.

Molly started to growl. Sarah tensed. Looking around she saw headlights parked on the other side of the road.

Molly was a pound dog. She was generally really sweet, but she wasn’t always good at meeting new people. If she was growling, something was up. The... truck seemed to have its hazard lights on, but it was dark and raining and Sarah couldn’t see much through windows that were now fogged up.

Oh shit, she thought. In the movies, this is where the serial killer turns up.

 

\----

 

Sean walked up to the Jolly Rancher Green Bug and knocked on the fogged up window. He could hear the dog barking on the inside, so he tried to project a calm presence.

The woman inside the car rolled the window down about an inch and worried hazel eyes peeked out of the gap at him.

“I’m Sean. I work at the garage in Bellmont. A biker saw you go off the road and called me to come make sure you were OK.”

“I’m fine, but my tire blew and my lug nuts are seized.” She was still worried about him, but at least the dog was calm.

“I’ll go see what I can do.” He hesitated for a moment. “Look, the heaters in these things are notoriously shit. Why don’t you and your dog go wait in the tow truck? It’s warm and the radio works. Keys are in the ignition if you want to fire it up to keep the heater running.”

“That’s awfully trusting of you, Sean.”

“Yeah, well, damsel in distress and all that. ‘Sides, the truck ain’t exactly inconspicuous if you steal it.”

The woman got out of the car. God she smelled good. He scratched the dogs head and watched them cross the road and get into his truck. He checked the lug nuts. He was pretty sure he could get them off. Hell, he could snap them off if he needed to, but not while pretending to still be human. And not without having to replace the bolts. He packed up her jack and her spare and ran over to the truck.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m gonna have to tow you back to the shop and do this inside. It looks like someone who didn’t know how to use the impact driver over torqued the nuts. We’re gonna have to replace the bolts.”

The woman groaned. “Yeah. That would have been me. New tool. I got a little excited.”

Sean stared at her in surprise for a moment before looking away. “Woman after my own heart,” he said.

She grinned. “I’m Sarah, this is Molly.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Sean shook the woman’s hand. The dog held up a paw, so he shook that too. “This will just be a moment.” He pulled the truck around and went back out into the rain to hook up the bug. The back seat and most of the trunk was full of boxes and suitcases, and a Rubbermaid tote was strapped to the minty chrome and wood roof top luggage rack. Interesting. He gave it a jiggle, it seemed secure.

After hooking everything up, he climbed back into the cab. “Mac is gonna be so disappointed he wasn’t working tonight. This is his favourite vintage of car, and it’s so shiny. The chrome looks amazing.”

“Thank you!” Sarah beamed, “It takes a bit of effort to keep it that w- I’m sorry, you already know that.”

Sean grinned. ”Yeah but most folks don’t really appreciate that.”

Sean kept the conversation light on the drive in, but Sarah wasn’t very good about being guarded. He learned her last name, Williams, and that she was moving to Plattsburg. She was planning on staying in residence and was feeling nervous because she didn’t know anyone there. At twenty-six she was starting to feel too old to be a student, but she had worked for a few years after getting her degree. 

Sean laughed at that. “At twenty six, I was finishing college after doing two tours of duty with The Marines.”

“Huh. Well, Semper Fi.”

“Rah.” Sean replied automatically, then paused.

“I’m sorry, was that wrong?”

“No, ma’am. I just… don’t hear that often.”

“What did you go to college for, Sean? I mean what did you take?”

“I became a mechanic. I had done some work as an MOS - 3521, so when I got out it seemed like the obvious choice.”

Sarah nodded.

The truck pulled into a parking lot that was full of motorcycles. Including one that looked suspiciously like the one Sarah had been following. She swallowed nervously.

“You OK?”

“Yeah. I’m just suddenly really glad I was being polite while following that biker earlier.”

Sean laughed as he pulled into the garage. “Gus mentioned that. Now be careful, the running boards are going to be slippery.”

Sarah nodded, opened her door, and stepped out of the truck. She promptly slipped, cracking her skull on her way down.

“Aw, shit.” Sean muttered. He ran around to the other side of the truck to check on her. She was still breathing, but when leaned in and gave her a sniff, something was very wrong. He started to panic and sprinted towards the rest of his pack.

He ran into the office where everyone was sitting around watching football. “Um…. I think that girl I picked up is dying.”

“Jesus, son, you eat another one?”

“No! Fuck, Marv! She slipped getting out of the truck and hit her head.”

Gus was suddenly paying really close attention. “Married?”

“No! She’s on her way to grad school in Plattsburg.”

“Huh.” Gus said, pointedly looking at Marv.

Mac sat up. “I can smell her dog. You bite her and we can blame the dog and get an Ulfurinn.”

Marv gave him hard look. “You really think setting up her dog to be put down is the best way to start a relationship?”

Gus was still watching Marv. “Is that your only objection? If the girl is dying anyway?”

The two shared a long look. “What do you have in mind?”

Gus jumped up and ran to the kitchen. He came back with a mug and the meat tenderizer. He handed the mug to Marv. “Spit!” he commanded.

Marv raised an eyebrow.

“Or, more specifically, drool.”

Marv changed to combat form and drooled into the cup. It got a lot easier after he was close enough to the girl to smell her. Her dog was standing over her growling at them. Marv snarled. The dog started to shiver but didn’t back down. Sean grabbed her collar and stuffed her back into the truck.

When he had about half a cup of drool, Gus loaded up the meat tenderizer syringe and unbuttoned her pants. Marv grabbed his arm. Gus stopped. “I can’t go into her shoulder, boss. The joint is round, the needle will slide off. Her pelvis is a flat bone. Better chance of this working.”

Marv nodded and released his second’s arm.

Gus stabbed Sarah hard. There was a crunch. He pressed the plunger, then pulled out the syringe and fixed her pants. “OK. Call the ambulance.”

Marv jaw wasn’t the right shape to use English, but he growled,  **“Hide her bag, first. We don’t know anything about her. Her name is Sarah. Sean picked her up on a tow run.** ” It only took them a few minutes to empty Sarah’s car and tuck everything into the unused apartment over the garage.

Mac tucked her phone in his pocket and headed out on his bike before the ambulance arrived.

Marv changed back to humie looking and insisted on riding in the ambulance with her to the hospital. That left Sean, Gus, and Craig to dig through her stuff to find out what they could learn about the woman.

It was Gus that found the dog’s registration and proof of vaccination in her purse. “The dog’s full name is ‘Miss Molly Dog Pollywog Princess Webbed Feet’.” He went silent at that as it sunk in. “This may have been a mistake.”

 

\----

The thing with getting old, Craig reasoned, was how much the world changed. His name for example. He was on his - what?- tenth name? Maybe more. Every couple of hundred years names fell out of date. There were other things. He had been a respectable five foot when he turned. In the next hundred or so years, all the shifting back and forth had stretched his bones to a freakishly tall six feet. Now that was normal and he was up to 6’6.

He supposed that made sense. How would you blend into the general public if your features were centuries out of date?

He had arrived in  Point  Rosee in … time was a difficult thing to keep track of. It had been before the Mass Suicide of the Ulfurinn. He had crossed the ocean on a long boat and had been left behind when the rest of the pack left.  It had been a much more feudal arrangement back then. 

 

Marv was the most relaxed pack leader Craig had ever met. The alpha who had infected Craig had run his pack and his Ulfurinn as his personal playthings. He kept them all functional, but they were definitely kept.

Craig didn’t see any appeal in that. He was perfectly all right living alone. He had learned the local language, several times, in fact, as different groups occupied the area. There was always something to hunt.

All that time alone had given him a lot of perspective. If the woman lying on the floor of the garage wasn’t dying, he would have stopped Gus.

He wasn’t sure it was worth ruining someone’s life just because the boys were lonely, and he was under no illusions that they wouldn’t be ruining the life of whomever they infected. Look at Sean and Lori. Become a dog of war and you could never really go home. Between the increased strength and speed, the heightened sense of smell and the fact that you had effectively stopped aging… it was better not to spend more than ten years in any one place. Five was better.

 

If this didn’t work, though, this woman was dead anyway. However it turned out, she was lost to her family now. If it worked, maybe she could still spend some time saying goodbye and fading out of their lives.

It seemed like a roll of the dice about who they were getting. That was foolish. You should be sure the person would fit into the pack before you infected them. On the other hand, her dog was willing to stand up to Marv in full combat form, where most dogs peed in fear and ran to hide at the sight of them. It wasn’t even a particular dangerous looking dog. Female, spayed, fifty-five pounds or so, mutt, not the sort you would expect to see as a guard dog.

But, fiercely loyal to her owner. That said a lot about the personality of the woman.

Craig knew his pack. He could tell what each of them thought of this situation.

Mac was thinking with his dick.

Sean was feeling guilty about Lori. Again.

Gus wanted to recreate the family he had lost.

Marv was still a southern gentleman, thinking about protecting the girl.

Craig was thinking about the long-term implications of what they were doing. He wasn’t certain that he liked where this was going.

Still, he had been following Marv for almost a hundred years. If this went bad, well, that was just the norns telling him to move on. If it did work, Craig needed someone to help him understand the world again. He could feel it leaving them behind.

 

####  August 22nd 11:45 pm

Mac pulled into the last gas station before he crossed into the next pack’s territory. He wasn’t the only biker there. Three big guys wearing stahlhelm helmets with swastikas on the side were also getting gas. Mac made sure he pulled up so they could see the rainbow patch on the side of his jacket. He wasn’t the best at this. Sean was way better. Mac looked too much like a skinhead who had lost a knife fight or two for it to work. Still, he gave his hips an extra swing as he walked past them to the pay phone.

Bob answered the third ring. “I’m coming for a visit.” Mac informed him, “I’ll be at the usual place in twenty and I’m bringing snacks.”

The other bikers were staring at him as he swished past them, so he blew them a kiss.

They caught up to him ten minutes out. They brought two friends. Mac pulled over on to a back road. They followed. He stopped his bike. They stopped. He pulled off his helmet and draped himself over the back of his crotch rocket. “You know why I wear the rainbow patch?” he asked. He didn’t wait for a reply before answering his own question. “It’s because my master says he never wants to find out he was on the wrong side of a war again.”

“What does that mean?” The leader demanded, wrapping a length of chain around his hand.

“It means every war you sick fucks have ever waged on the world, you have lost. But it’s not too late to get back on your bikes and leave.”

“Yeah.” said one of the others. “It is.”

####  August 23rd, 12:05 am

Robert pulled his truck and trailer onto an abandoned side rode. He saw six bikes parked neatly in a row. He grinned and climbed out of the cab. He walked towards the creature that was currently beating a man to death and laughed. “I see you brought snacks.”

 

The creature loped over and pulled a phone out of the leather jacket draped over one of the bikes.  “ **I need this across state lines by morning,** ” it barked.

 

Robert nodded.  “I can do that. You keeping the bikes?”

 

“ **Consider them payment for your help.** ”

\----

Sarah was half way through an MRI. Marv was pretty sure it was going to show at least a skull fracture. The admitting staff had told him only next of kin could be with the patients in here. He pointed out she was a Jane Doe as he pulled out his credit card. It was amazing how much that helped smooth things along.

By 2 am, they had approached him about organ donation. This is where not being the actual next of kin was very helpful.

By 3am, Marv and Sean were filling out police reports. Craig sat with Sarah while they were occupied.

By 7am, Sarah had a bed in ICU. Craig was standing guard. Or at least sitting watch. They weren’t expecting anything yet, but having someone sitting there dumping pheromones into the air near her couldn’t hurt.

Well, except that the nurses kept coming by to ask if he needed anything.

And some of the interns.

And the little old lady volunteer who came around with the sandwich cart. That last one was a little surprising.

“Here,” Estelle insisted, “just take a sandwich. You are too thin. If you were my son, I would make you eat more. I’ll bring you a thermos of soup tomorrow, in case your… young lady is still unwell.”

Craig may have blushed slightly at the knowing look she gave him, but he said thank you and took the sandwich. He had long ago learned not to argue with geriatric women, it only ever went bad.

At 11am, Sean turned up to take over the guard duties. Craig stretched, “The chairs are crap, but there isn’t much we can do about them.”

Sean frowned. “Tell the boss. Maybe he can figure out how to donate something more comfortable.”

Craig nodded. He walked past Estelle in the lobby on his way out and smiled. “Thanks for the sandwich.”

She gave him a warm smile. “What a polite young man! You are very welcome! Going to get some proper food now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good! You’ll be wanting to find some warm socks for your young lady. Their feet get so cold in there, what with the not moving at all.” Estelle suggested.

Craig considered this. “Yes ma’am. Thanks for the tip.”

When he got out to the bikes, Gus was waiting for him. “Back to the house? Mac is back in town. We made a pot of stew.”

“Yup.” Craig said, distractedly looking at his phone. “I need to make a stop first.”

Gus considered this. “Where we going, brother?”

“I dunno. A craft store, I guess.”

Gus fought between confusion and amusement. “You after makin’ her a scrapbook?”

“Nah. Gonna knit her some socks.”

“Ha! Pull the other one, ‘sgot bells on!”

Craig glared at his pack mate. “I can knit! I used to make … stuff.”

“Socks?”

“OK, so it’s been a while. But it’s like riding a bike and besides there are how to videos for everything now.”

Gus looked surprising aggressive at that. “Laddy, I will bet you I can knit her a pair of socks in the time it takes you to figure out the one.”

Craig looked up at that. “Bottle of 20 year old single malt to the winner?”

Gus grinned, “Aye. If the stars align and you somehow get the jump on me, I’ll even put an e in it for you.” It was a long-standing joke between the two of them. Technically, Craig drank bourbon, but it was too much fun arguing spelling to let that stand in their way.

####  \----

 

It would be an understatement to say Phyllis was surprised when a pair of bikers in black leather jackets pulled up in front of her Knitting and Needlework store. Or that she was apprehensive when they came inside. The one who was merely scruffy came over to the desk, while the one with facial scarring headed straight to the sock yarn section.

Scruffy man said, “I wanna knit some socks.” He thought about it for a moment before he added, “For a girl.” 

Phyllis swallowed. “Have you ever knit anything before?” The scarred man burst out laughing. “I mean, socks aren’t the best first project.”

“Yeah, I have, it’s been… awhile.” Craig decided mentioning that he hadn’t actually knit anything since the 1950’s wouldn’t be the most helpful at this point. Instead he said, “I used to knit socks while I was in the service,” and left out that he meant he had knit during trench warfare in World War One and randomly throughout World War Two.

Gus was still chuckling to himself as he approached the counter. He slammed down a skein of grey sock yarn with a pretty purple heather fleck. “I’ll take that and a set of number 13 sock needles.”

Phyllis gaped at him. “Number thirteen is way too big for that yarn.” She fumbled behind the counter and pulled out the 9 mm needles that were more suitable for a chunky afghan than a pair of socks.

Gus frowned, pulled out his phone and tried to let Google solve the problem. While he was working on that, Phyllis helped Craig pick out something called self patterning sock yarn, a book on something called the magic loop and a weird long string with a knitting needle attached to each end.

“Ah!” Gus exclaimed, “UK,” he grumbled at the word, “size 13 knitting needles is a size 2.25 millimetre needle. What size did you get?”

Craig looked at his package. “2.75 emm emm size two.”

Phyllis pulled out a size one circular.

Gus frowned. “No. I want proper sock pins. Set of five.”

“Aluminium, acrylic, wood or stainless?”

Gus hesitated for a moment, “Stainless?”

She pulled out a pack of Chiao Goos. Gus opened the package and nodded approvingly. “Do you want me to wind that for you?”

Gus gave her a look. “I ken how to do that!”

“I’m sorry. You just don’t look like a man who owns a ball winder.”

Craig snickered.

“Wa?” Gus asked.

Phyllis sighed and took him over to the umbrella swift and the ball winder. It took her about three minutes to turn his skein into a cake.

“Huh. What will they think of next.”

They paid cash and left. Phyllis leaned against the door and breathed a sigh of relief. In the forty years she had been working here, she had never had two actual customers who made her fear for her life. Everything about the men had oozed malevolent intent. They had been polite enough, but she couldn’t shake the creeped out feeling. Analysing the encounter, she shouldn’t be as upset as she was.

It was looking like a nice day out there. She decided to close for lunch.

####  \----

Marv finally got home after having spent the day arguing with and finally manipulating the hospital administration into acquiescing to his demands. He was tired, he was hungry and he was generally pissed off. All of this combined did not put him in the best mood to walk into the house and find two of his pack in the parlour, knitting.

Or more specifically, Gus knitting, and Craig swearing as he tried to follow along with a video and occasionally telling Gus he was doing it wrong. Marv stared in shock, then started growling. Both his boys dropped what they were doing and hustled to the kitchen.

“Stew for lunch, Boss.” Gus said ladling some into a bowl. Craig got out the cutlery and a beer. Gus followed quickly with soda bread and butter.

After their alpha had half a bowl of stew in him, Gus asked, “What do we know?”

Marv grunted. “Don’t know if it took yet. They are gonna keep her alive for a few weeks. We’re gonna haveta cash in a few things to make it happen. Fucking healthcare is expensive. We are gambling close to a million dollars on this working.” He considered this as he drained his beer. Craig grabbed him another from the fridge. “Gonna talk to the science division. Maybe we can get funding for this. Don’t think it's bin tried before. The sawbones are talking brain damage. If the curse can’t heal that… we’ll have to put ‘er down anyway.” He cracked open the second beer. “Where’s the dog?”

Gus and Craig both grinned, but it was Gus who said, “Mac took Miss Molly Dog Pollywog Princess Webbed Feet for a walk.”

Marv paused, his beer halfway to his lips, “Tag says Molly. We is gonna call her Molly.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has been largely reworked and is in final (5th) proof reading to be posted for sale soon. I'm picking out cover artists this week!

###  Chapter 2

_ 830AD - Second Deployment _

_ Changes in the second batch of War Dogs allow the infection to be spread. Females can be infected to produce pheromones to prevent them from being eaten by infected in their presence or during interaction such as mating. It is unknown if by design or by the genetic differences that has the infected women able to change internely to fit the needs of War Dogs. For this, the women receive their own title of the infected, the Ulfurinn.  Without a combat form or a canine form, Ulfurinn are seen as lesser creatures. Their ability to produce pheromones prevents the War Dogs from viewing them as food. There are no cases of viable Ulfurinn/War Dog offspring. Ulfurinn are not able to interbreed with humans. Neither War Dogs nor Ulfurinn appear to age or become ill. They can only be killed through catastrophic injury. Women still suffer a low survivability from infection.  _

 

_ The Transmission of this Gift/Curse remains a mystery to the War Dogs. Ulfurinn are hoarded like treasure, but not treated as such. Locked away in underground lairs and guarded against theft from other packs. _

######  _ August 25th _

Marv wasn’t entirely convinced that this was the best idea. Still, it was pretty clear the girl wasn’t going to be waking up if they hadn’t. At least they were giving her a chance. Giving all of them a chance. And while they were waiting he was suddenly spending all his time arguing with hospital staff, trusting the boys to keep the business going.

Luper packs, the stable ones at least, all had a business. Something that was male dominated. A garage, electricians, a machine shop, never plumbers, and, in the old days, they might run a gentleman’s club. These days it was more likely to be a gay bar. Marv’s crew all wore the rainbow patch. Pretty much as bait, right wing nut jobs were on the menu if they came looking for trouble. 

Marv had fought in the America Civil war. He thought he was fighting to protect a way of life. Plus, he may have been poor white trash, but the important part in that sentence, at the time was white.

Until some moneyed bastard had found him bleeding out of the battlefield. The man had changed and bitten Marv’s knee before dragging him away. 

Marv spent the next six years being his alpha’s slave before he was strong enough to challenge the bastard. It had changed his perspective on the equality of all men. A hundred plus years of perspective had show him he was fighting to protect the privilege of a few wealthy landowners. 

He didn’t force his pack. He only pulled on the power of his position when it was really important. Gus had wanted this.

Gus had been turned about the same time Marv had, just on the other side of the world. Like Marv, he had been forced to walk away from his wife and kids. Where Marv had resigned himself to the life, Gus wanted someone to take care of. It made pack dynamics a bit complicated given what had happened with Sean.

Marv came along when they transferred the girl to the long-term care wing. Fuck. It was like hell’s waiting room in there. Everyone smelled like corpse, including his girl, but especially the old lady in bed one. Why weren’t her kin folk just letting her die? God he hoped this worked. He didn’t want to have spent all this effort just to have Sarah die. He didn’t want The Black ordering him to pull the plug either.

“You can’t be here.”

Marv looked over at the nurse who was talking to him. Her name tag said her name was Susan.

“Why not? I’m paying for this.”

“That isn’t how this works. Visiting rules say next of kin only.” Susan insisted.

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that.” He was already on a first name basis with Valerie from billing. Damned if he was just gonna leave his girl here. She could fall prey to anything.

######  _ August 28th  _

First day back from vacation and he had pulled the vegetable patch shift. Great. Dr Paul Andrews was not a fan. It was 95% sitting on your ass and 5% not being able to do anything when the patients died. He didn’t really rush to get to his shift. He had been away for two weeks, but would be surprised if anything had changed.

Susan was working. The nurse was in her forties, she was jaded and no nonsense. She no longer bothered with hair and makeup like the younger nurses. Dr Andrews knew she was very good at her job, but there wasn’t much opportunity to shine around here. Given that most of his rounds would be talking brain death with a nurse, he preferred it when one of the cute ones was working.

“What have we got today, Susan?”

“No change on beds two through seven. Mrs Talbot passed away three days ago. Bed one is still empty. Bed eight was filled last night with a transfer from ICU. Woman in her mid twenties slipped getting out of tow truck in that rainstorm on Tuesday. Skull versus pavement. Should have been a candidate for organ transplant, but she is effectively a Jane Doe. The tow truck operator said her name was Sarah, but they couldn’t find any ID.”

Dr Andrews pulled up the woman’s MRI. “Fractured skull and a brain bleed. Why is this girl even here?”

Susan shrugged, “Owner of the garage is feeling guilty about what happened. He said he would pay for life support for three weeks to give the cops a chance to find her family. His cheque cleared, so she’s our problem until the middle of September.” Susan hesitated. “There’s another thing to be aware of, she has visitors.”

Paul frowned. “You said she was a Jane Doe.”

“Yeah, but someone from the garage comes to sit with her. They have a rotation or something, but there is always one of them with her. We have explained the situation, but they are insisting someone should be there if she wakes up. Dr Peters finally got angry and pointed out that she wasn’t going to wake up. The guy who was with her said that people shouldn’t die alone either. Then we got a call from Administration about it. They are now allowed twenty four hour access, as long as they leave the room for procedures.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Sadly, no. They are quite insistent about knowing what is going on with her. On the upside, they have pretty much taken over mouth care for her. I think they would change her diapers if we let them. As it is, they are very insistent we keep her clean.”

They exchanged a look. They both knew that patients were supposed to be changed as soon bowel movements occurred. However, it was easier to check on a schedule than be on constant alert. The idea of having not exactly family members watching his every move did not sit well with Dr Andrews. He could only imagine what the nursing staff thought of that.

######  _ September 2nd _

James, AKA Mac, AKA Mac the knife, was reading Sarah the paper. He did that every time it was his turn to sit with her. He read. He would start with the paper then continue with whatever book he picked off her kindle. Despite the doctors insisting she couldn’t hear him, careful experimentation showed that her heart rate slowed for books about dog training and increased for John Saul’s Creature.

He personally didn’t believe this was going to work. The girl was almost brain dead when Gus had infected her. He and Marv had insisted that it used to be that everyone was almost dead when they were infected. Mac certainly hoped so.

Fuck, he missed pussy. The pack generally helped each other out, but it wasn’t the same. Gus told him he hadn’t gotten any since he turned back in 1867. He had never belonged to a pack with an Ulfurinn in all those years. Although, really, when Mac thought about their previous Alpha, he could understand why no female would want to stick around. 

Bastard had carved a smile onto the face of every member of his pack. That was just unnecessary, but the sick fuck had gotten a kick out of calling them "A Pack Of Jokers." Honestly, the best day of his life had been when Marv ripped the asshole’s throat out.

######  _ September 4th  _

Mac noticed her smell change.  _ Fear _ . He stopped reading for a moment and slid his chair a little closer. There wasn’t any sign of movement, but…

“Yur safe. Yur in the hospital. We’re takin’ care of you.” He thought for a moment, “We’re takin’ care of Molly too. She gets lots of walks and we found the right brand of food for her. She misses you, but the doctors won’t let her come visit. You gotta wake up so you can come home to her.”

He stopped to watch her for a long moment, “I want to hold yur hand. But I won’t until I know it’s OK. We’ve been helping take care of you. Brushing yur teeth, moving your arms and legs a bit to keep your blood flowing. Gus, made you a bunch of warm socks. You seem to like them. Or at least you like having warm feet. Your heart rate goes up when we take them off and comes back down after we put a new pair on.”

“Sean found out you like those fancy colouring books, so he got you a bunch and some real nice pencil crayons. Marv got a room set up for you.” Mac hesitated, “We’re hopin’ you come home with us. We can still drive you into Plattsburg every day, if you wanna start school after New Years. You don’t havta stay with us, but we are all hoping you will.”

He thought some more. “It’s complicated. We want to have everything ready for you if you agree to come home with us, but we don’t want to cross that line into creepy. Gus figures he and me‘ll have to stay out of your way for a while, when you first wake up. We aren’t exactly pretty. Sean and Craig are more chick bait, so you will probably wanna spend a lot of time with them. Marv says if you wake up, what happens next has to be your call. He won’t insist on anything.

“I hope I get a chance to talk to you when you wake up. Gus thinks it’s weird that I talk to you when you can’t answer, but you were afraid five minutes ago and now you are more calm, so it can’t be all bad.”

He watched her for a moment. “I’m going to hold your hand. If you get afraid, I’ll stop, OK?” He waited for a moment. “OK, I’m taking your left hand. Wow, your fingers are cold too. Maybe I should get you some mittens. I’m not sure they would let me put them on over the IV. If you don’t mind, I could just hold your hand and keep your fingers warm. I know I’m babbling. I don’t know what to say and it’s harder than I would have thought holding up both ends of the conversation. I’ll go back to reading now that you are feeling less afraid.”

Mac watched her for a moment. Fuck he had no idea how to talk to girls anymore. He was vaguely aware that you were supposed to call them women now. He had left humanity at the age of 24 in 1975. At that point he had been listening to punk music and pushing for anarchy in the world. He wanted to date a girl who wasn’t a poseur. And would suck his cock.

Sadly, these days all he wanted in a girl was one who could survive.

######  _ September 4th  10:00 pm _

“Are you supposed to be holding her hand like that?” Marv was frowning. He was here to take over observation from Mac. It had been a shit day. Their parts order was late. The jackass who had ordered a custom bike from the shop had tried to haggle on the finished product. The fairy ring in the forest had opened and the pointy ears made his teeth itch. Fuck, you spend the day repelling an interdimensional invasion through a naturally occurring wormhole and all you get is stabbed. Not even so much as a thank you, because (if you are doing your job right) the public never finds out they almost became the newest slave race for an ancient and powerful species.

Mac looked guilty. “She smells more relaxed when I’m holding her hand.”

“Really.” Marv sounded sceptical.

Mac let go. Sarah’s fingers curled around his, weak as a newborn kitten, there was barely any pressure in her grip, but it was there.

“Shit.” Marv said staring at their hands. “Looks like you’re staying, boy.”

Mac swallowed, “Can you hear me, Sarah?”

Finger twitch.

“You fell and hit your head. You are in the hospital.” Mac hesitated. Marv was pheromone dumping like his life depended on it. “Can you squeeze my hand again?”

It was gentle, but it was there.

######  _ September 5th  _

“Hey! Stop! You can’t bring a dog in here!”

Craig rolled his eyes. Clearly he could bring a dog in here, the question was could the staff force him to stop. The answer was no. They might just not understand that. Marv had said the girl was starting to show signs of waking up. This would help, therefore this is what was going to happen.

He ignored the nurse who was flapping at him. Molly seemed a little nervous about that, but Craig rubbed her ears and she settled right down. Until she saw Sarah. Then she gave a bark and jumped into bed with her owner. She smelled Sarah’s face, then laid down and began anxiously nosing the girl’s hands.

Once Molly got her head under Sarah’s hand, she started to whine.

Sarah’s fingers twitched and started to scritch the dog.

Craig and Marv made eye contact. The nurse ran off.

“Tell her to open her eyes.” Craig said.

Marv shook his head, “I don’t-”

Craig interrupted. “I can’t do this. I’m not dominant enough. We need to know if her brain is still working or if her muscle memory is doing this. They are going to take her away for tests in a moment. You need to tell her to open her eyes now.”

Marv glared at him. Craig dropped his gaze.

“Sarah. Open your eyes.”

Craig turned to stare at the girl. Her eyelids fluttered. It was a start.

Mac gasped. Craig ignored him.

Marv considered this, “C’mon, girl, open your eyes.”

They cracked open a little and closed like someone trying to wake up from a deep sleep when they weren’t really ready too.

“Look at me.” This time Marv really put some weight behind the command.

Craig relaxed. At this point Marv would do what needed to be done. Instinct would take over. It would be fine. Marv had never not known the Black Treaty. Craig had lived in isolation for hundreds of years before he learned of it. So, while he whole heartily approved of the treaty, it wasn’t second nature for him the way it was for these boys.

\-----

 

Sarah’s head ached. Her eyes were crusty and her mouth felt like something had died in it. She licked her lips. Yup. Dead and still there until the neighbours complained about the strange stain in the ceiling.

 

The headache was not being helped by the man who had worked hard at not sounding like he was from Alabama arguing with the man who was clearly from Boston at the top of their lungs.

 

Blinking wasn’t working too well for her and there was something bothering her nose.

 

On her third try she managed to scrub her face with her hand. The was a tube coming out of her nose. It was taped to her face. Her fingers weren’t up to much but she managed to get a grip on it. 

 

A hand gently closed over hers and a familiar voice said, “Please leave it. It has been keeping you fed.”

 

Newcastle. What the fuck was with all these people?

 

She managed to get her eyes open and some jackass was immediately flashing a light in and out of them. It hurt. She made an involuntary shriek-hiss that was startling even to her. What the hell?

 

Hell.

 

Hel.

 

Hel’s Hounds

 

She scrubbed her eyes. They didn’t quite want to focus. “Was I in a car accident?” Her voice was soft and scratchy. Worse than when she first woke up in the morning. More like a really, really bad case of laryngitis. “Did... did I hit a biker? I was trying not to.” 

 

The hand was still holding her hand. It smelled good. Everything else in here, including her, stank.

 

“Come on, lad. Time for us to go.”

 

Not Glasgow, not Edinburgh, not highland, but still decidedly Scottish. Newcastle let go of her fingers. She whimpered at the loss. Again, what was that? That was not a sound she made.

 

“Did I hit my head?”

 

“Do you remember?” Boston asked.

 

“Just answer the fucking question.” No. That wasn’t… she didn’t talk to people like that. “Aw crap! I have brain damage don’t I?”

 

There was a long moment of silence. Sarah blinked a few more times to try to get her eyes to focus. It didn’t really help. “And I’ve gone blind. Is that the part of my brain that I damaged? Vision and swearing?”

 

Alabama - no, not quite… _._ Kentucky _?_ \- answered. “You fell out of a truck and hit your head. They did an MRI and declared you brain dead. Me an the boys have been taking care of you the last few weeks.”

 

“Read Hogfather?” she asked

 

Someone cleared their throat, “Yeah. You seemed to like it.” Newcastle said.

 

Sarah frowned. “I don’t… I remember but I don’t remember at the same time. How does that work?”

 

Light in her eyes again.

 

“Fuck off!” She tried to grab the light and missed. Something growled and it wasn’t Molly laying on her legs.

 

When he spoke, Sarah realized Boston was the one with the light. “We don’t know how any of this works. We would like to do another MRI.”

 

“I don’t have insurance.” Oh crap. She didn’t. She had just spent god only knows how long in the hospital and had gone blind and had no insurance and now what was she going to do? This would mean her parents would go bankrupt trying to help!

 

An alarm started to go off. Maybe-Kentucky was suddenly really close to her. “Sarah. It’s OK. You are gonna be fine. We’re taking care of it. You don’t have to panic. You are gonna be fine.” He smelled like leather and machine oil and, god help her, she believed him. “It’s OK. Just try to relax.”

 

Sarah took a deep breath in and fell asleep as she breathed out.

 

\----

 

Gus took Mac and left. Once they made it back to the garage he called the science division. The pack had been making sure they were sending along information daily. Their contact was very interested in what they had to say. Arrangements were made to transfer Sarah plus one to a head injury clinic for assessment. There were people working there that owed the lupers some favours. Sarah would be brought in and treated, then the paperwork would mysteriously get lost.

 

All that was left was to decide who the plus one would be. The pack just assumed it would be Marv. Marv thought it should be Mac.

 

“You’re the one who spent all that time reading to her. You were holding her hand when she started to wake up.”

 

Mac shook his head. He wanted to point out that it was Craig bringing Molly that had been the final push to get her to wake up. The problem with that was they all knew Craig had spent a lot of time alone. If there was anyone who might take the Ulfurinn and not come back, it was him.

 

Gus had a number of concerns about Mac going. But the one he put forward was that it should be Marv. He was the pack leader and had more experience.

 

Marv shook his head. “If I go, it leaves the town open to territorial challenges. Mac and the Treaty will keep her safe.”

 

Craig didn’t trust the treaty the way the others did, but it was Marv’s decision to make. And he was right, they had just repelled an invasion attempt. Robert’s pack got on with the boys well enough, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to expand his operation if Bellmont was left without an alpha.

 

Angus had put forward the suggestion that he and Mac sit out the first couple on months. He didn’t want them scaring her off with their scars. He had pointed Craig and Sean where closer in appearance to her age and a lot more conventionally handsome. Craig just shook his head. Sean was not psychologically in a good place to transition anyone into the pack, and Craig… 

Well, he had never had that experience. He was turned. His Alpha had given him orders. He had followed them until he had gotten separated from the pack. After that, he was careful not to get too close to that kind of Alpha again. New York had been a mistake. And he had regretted it for twenty years until Marv had solved the problem.

Marv was interesting. He didn’t really throw his weight around. His pack stayed together because they wanted to, not because he made them. From what Craig understood of the Black Treaty, Marv was applying it to every member of his pack. That alone would make for an easier transition for the girl.

Sarah.

He needed to remember that Ulfurinn had names now.

He was going to get so much of this wrong. He prayed to Frigg that the - that Sarah would be patient with him.

 

\----

Sarah woke up. The room was out of focus. She had never needed glasses, but maybe this meant that she did now. What was with the smells around here? She could barely see the man sitting silently in the corner, but she could smell him. 

 

Mmm…. She had no idea what cologne the man was using, but it was the best one she had ever come across. Wood and moss and forrest.

 

If she concentrated, she could smell the other patients and someone who smelled like salon shampoo and expensive makeup.

 

“I want a bath.” She thought for a moment. “I want all of these tubes out of me and a bath.”

 

Yummy Smelling Man went to talk to Salon Woman. Sarah hadn’t heard him speak before. It was…. Newfoundlander? Ish? Newfie mixed with Minnesota, maybe. Weird. Did any of these people have standard accents?

 

The discussion about unhooking Sarah was getting heated. Boston came back and was firmly on the leave it alone side. Sarah remember something. “I refuse treatment.”

 

They didn’t hear her. Yummy did. He dragged Makeup and Boston over. “What was that?”

 

“I refuse treatment. I am allowed. I want the tubes out because I am refusing that medical treatment.”

 

“Sarah, I’m Dr Andrews. We need to ask you some questions, but we can’t just remove the equipment because-”

 

Sarah pulled out her IV. There was a panic and a scramble as her hand started bleeding and IV fluid went everywhere. “I can get all this stuff off of me myself, but better if I let you do, yeah?”

 

“Sarah -”

 

“NO! My head hurts and my throat hurts and I really want a bath. Other than that I feel fine!” She didn’t mention the vision thing, being fairly certain that it wouldn’t help her cause. She fumbled for the nose tube again. Hands grabbed her, she struggled. 

 

“Let go of her.” Yummy had spoken really quietly, but there was more raw menace in his voice than most people got by shouting. Everyone froze. “Aside from the inconvenience of needing to put things back if she falls back into a coma, is there any reason why she currently needs to be hooked up to all of this?”

 

Dr Andrews did something that Sarah couldn’t see and then sighed. “We don’t know. I haven’t been able to examine her or run any tests.”

 

“The IV is already gone. The NG tube isn’t going to make any difference if she crashes. The catheter is helpful for keeping her clean, but I’ll change her sheets if she pees. Unhook her.”

 

Sarah wasn’t sure why they did as they were told. She got the firm impression that they weren’t either. After they were done, Dr Andrews stormed out. One of the nurses went to organize a bath for Sarah.

 

“My name is Craig. I am part of the family that runs the garage where your car was towed. We have been sitting with you and taking care of you since then. Will you let me help you take a bath?”

 

Sarah hesitated. “I don’t know you.”

 

“You don’t know them, either.”

 

That was a fair point. “What is Newcastle’s name? The one who read to me?”

 

There was a long pause. “His name is Mac.”

 

Sarah shook her head. “No. Not the Scottish one, the one who read to me.”

 

Craig chuckled softly. “The Scot is named Gus. Angus. Mac is the one who read to you. Marv … owns the garage. Sean-”

 

“-drives the tow truck.” Sarah finished. “I didn’t remember that until you said his name.”

 

The nurse was back. “OK. Let’s get this over with.”

 

“My friend Craig is going to take me for a bath.”

 

“We can’t-” she fell silent.

 

Craig used that opportunity to say, “Why don’t you and Dr Andrews get her discharge papers ready? I’m sure you will want her to sign something before she leaves AMA.”

 

The nurse stomped off.

 

Craig picked her up. She could hear Molly yawn and stretch and pad after them.  There was some jostling to get her in the tub and the soap smelled terrible, but the water was warm and Craig was washing her hair.  Sarah sighed as his fingers scratched perfectly at her scalp. “Definitely a wash and repeat day,” she suggested. 

 

He was careful not to get shampoo in her eyes when he rinsed her hair.

 

Sarah spoke again as the second round of shampoo went in. “I’m not sure if any of this is real yet. It all feels a bit trippy. I can smell everything. The shampoo feels nice, but it smells terrible. I can smell which brand of makeup the nurse was wearing. Or at least I think I can.” 

 

Craig passed her a washcloth. Sarah started at her hands and then scrubbed up her arms. Ugh. It was was past time to shave her armpits. Maybe not while Craig was helping. After the second rinse, he lifted her out of the tub. He wrapped her in about three of the too small, too rough hospital towels and put her into a wheelchair before he pulled over a table. He gave her a toothbrush with paste already on it, a cup of water and a basin to spit into. Molly came over and leaned against her legs. While Sarah was brushing her teeth, she could hear Craig cleaning the bathtub.

 

“How bad of a ring did I leave?”

 

Craig snorted, “Let’s just say, it’s a rinse and repeat day.” She finished brushing her teeth and could hear him filling the tub. “Marv is going to want you to come stay with us. At least until you can see again. It will be your decision, but this would be easier on all of us - and you - if you did. At least for a little while.”

 

“I want to go home to my family.”

 

She could feel Craig’s fear at that. How did that work? This had to be the brain damage.

 

“It is up to you, but if you are going to go home to your family, you should definitely have the MRI first.”

 

Sarah was a bit irritated by that. “But not if I go with you?”

 

“Sean has PTSD. We know how to work with people who are …”

 

“Mentally compromised?”

 

“If you like.”

 

She could smell when Maybe-Kentucky came in. Leather and oil. “Is that Marv?”

 

Two startled noises. “Yeah. It’s me. How did you know?”

 

Sarah wasn’t sure how to explain that.

 

After a moment of awkward silence, Marv continued. “We made arrangements for you to be seen at the Devin Clinic. You will go by ambulance in a few hours.”

 

“I can’t afford that.”

 

“You don’t need to. It’s our responsibility to take care of you.”

 

Sarah sighed. “It was a wet night. Sean warned me to be careful. If I sue, the only people who win will be the lawyers.”

 

“You don’t have to sue. If you aren’t happy with how this turns out, you can leave and you will still be financially taken care of. We wanna know you will be OK.”

 

Shit. The garage didn’t look that well off. Was there some gang related drug money or something that was paying for all of this?  Ah hell, Craig had said the garage was owned by a ‘family’ and whoever they were, the doctor and nurses were afraid of them.

 

“It’s OK.” Marv reassured her. “Don’t be afraid. You are safe. No one is going to hurt you. It’s gonna be OK.”

 

Craig asked, “Are you ready for round two, or do you need to go back to bed now?”

 

Sarah didn’t say anything She was sitting here, wearing only a pile of towels, with two strange men in the room. Why wasn’t she more freaked out by that? Part of it was that Molly was here and she wasn’t bothered by either of them.

 

Marv said, “I’ll just go arrange the transfer with the staff, OK?”

 

Sarah nodded.

 

Marv left.

 

“OK,” she said. “Round two.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE Comment!


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